


Denial Denied

by draelynn



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Gift Fic, M/M, weiss kreuz - Freeform, weiss_kreusmas 2010
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:17:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draelynn/pseuds/draelynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just as Ken seems to 'find himself', Yohji isn't so sure he wants to follow in his BFF's footsteps. But, at some point, there is just no denying the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Denial Denied

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ at weiss_kreuzmas 2010 in the bonus round for midnitemaraud_R. Not my usual pairing but I suppose I had a small itch to address a thing or two that always bugged me in canon. If I tried to scratch all those itches I would have flayed off my skin ages ago...

“Ken! Goddammit – KEN!” Yohji screamed for, what felt like, the twentieth time. 

Ken whipped his head around so fast the blood dripping from his bangs splattered across the once pristine white hem of Yohji’s coat. Any gripe the blond had died in his throat. Perhaps it was the focused intensity of the stare, or the blood splattering his face or perhaps the gore running in rivulets down his arm and off the tips of his blades.

No. That wasn’t it. It was the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Yeah. That was it.

Yohji backed up a few steps.

“Too slow again, Yohji. I didn’t leave any for you.” Ken released the collar of his target letting it splat in a puddle of its own fluids.

It. There wasn’t really any way to tell if it was a he or a she anymore.

Yohji licked his lips. They suddenly felt much too dry. There were easily ten bodies in here. The mission would have gone much differently if Ken hadn’t gone caveman.

“You pissed off Aya again. You really gotta stop running off on your own.”

“That’s my special talent… pissing off Aya.  Trust me, he’d just find something else to bitch about.”  Ken wiped his arm and his blades on the uniform of one of the cleaner kills littering the floor before joining Yohji at the door. “Why, are you pissed too?”

Yohji wasn’t sure how he did it, but the blood soaked killing machine sounded genuinely hurt by that idea. Yohji just shook his head and smiled.

“No, man.  Not at all.” He broke into a run to rendezvous with the others. “I mean, as long as you stop dripping blood on my coat. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get blood out of leather?”

Ken just laughed to himself as they raced for the exit as wailing sirens grew closer and closer.

Once back in the van, Ken took up a corner furthest from Aya’s scrutiny in the rear view mirror. Out of sight was, unfortunately, not out of mind.

“Ken, are you trying to get yourself killed?” Aya sniped as they all were pitched sharply to the left as he squealed tires around a corner.

“I don’t know if you noticed but I saved that mission. I bought you guys all the time you needed.”

“And if we need to chase after you, we’re wasting time and jeopardizing the mission. “

“You can’t do it, can you? You can’t say ‘thank you’. You have no idea how to be grateful…”

“Will you two knock it off?! At least until we get home. “ Omi was typing furiously at his laptop. His dual role as referee was distracting thus annoying him to the point where his usual diplomatic demeanor eroded into a snippy bark.

Yohji slid back in his seat, satisfied that, for once, he wasn’t the target of the attitude flying around. He laced his hands behind his head, closed his eyes and relaxed with a big breath.  All was right in their world at the moment – arguing as any dysfunctional family might, all alive, uninjured, a sweet payday on the way for a job well done.

He couldn’t keep his thoughts from trailing back to that room though. To Ken.  Yohji had made sure that he was the one to go chasing after Ken lately. He had been doing a pretty good job of denying the obvious but, after tonight, it just might be an official ‘issue’ to deal with. Ken was smiling as he liquefied a target. Again.  God – what was that that Manx always used to say? Something about becoming the beast…  It didn’t really matter what the words were, only the implication. If Omi even hinted at that in one of his reports…

Yohji slowly cracked his eyes open. Across from him Ken rolled his eyes and argued on with Aya but there was no heat in any of his words, not that Aya or Omi even noticed. Ken was focused on his blades, lovingly cleaning the blood from between blade and sheath, eyes gleaming, a twitch of a smile each time the rag ran the length of the blade. Yohji almost expected him to lick at it like that white haired freak that got away. As chilling of a thought as that was, it disturbed him even more that Ken reached down  to adjust himself, seemingly wrestling with –IT- for a moment. Yohji couldn’t help it. His eyes travelled down, following the motion.

Ken was enjoying this a whole lot more than he realized.

Yohji screwed his eyes shut and tried to picture the wedding arrangements waiting for them in the morning.  It wasn’t working. He could only picture what was waiting for him when they returned home.

 

 

Everyone did exactly as they had done every time they returned home from a mission. Omi headed for the basement to type out his report to Kritiker while it was all still fresh in his head. Aya went straight to his room to strip down and head directly to a scalding hot shower. He’d return to his room only after he was streaked red, steam literally curling in wisps off his hair as he sealed himself in his room until morning. His and Ken’s routine, lately, was also no different. Yohji didn’t miss the look Ken gave him as he headed to his room. Yohji shut his door quietly, turning on the stereo as he shed his mission clothes, stowed his watch, lit a cigarette and waited.

He hadn’t really put any thought into how things had evolved into this. It was much easier and safer to just not think about it. Enjoy it for what it was.  But that look on Ken’s face…

Damn. Ken was actually hard from a kill. Literally getting off on the job. Somehow, that seriously changed things. 

Yohji ran a hand through his hair unable to stop the sudden swell of guilt. Why hadn’t he just let Ken find his happily ever after in Australia? Ken couldn’t have given a damn about Persia or Kritiker, he was eager to defy the odds and make a serious attempt at a simple life with Yuriko. It was on his words, and his words alone that Ken abandoned that hope. Yohji wasn’t even sure why he felt so strongly about it. He knew his own guilt would keep him miserable and alone in the long run but why did he feel the need to impose that on his closest friend as well?

It was actually an easy question to answer if he let himself think about it. It was why things had changed between him and Ken in the first place. Don’t talk, don’t tell – they could both easily pretend it didn’t exist. But now…

Yohji heard the bathroom door open, then Aya’s door close as he abandoned them for the night. He also heard Ken’s door open and the long pause of silence afterward.

Despite his apprehension, despite his guilt, Yohji found himself following through as he had dozens of times before. He stubbed out his cigarette, grabbed his towel and headed out his door, leaving it cracked open behind him. He headed into the bathroom and shut the door, locking it with a loud obvious click.

Ken was on him in a second, rough hands gripping at his sides, biting at his shoulder as he stripped the towel from Yohji’s waist. All the embarrassment and awkward fumbling they both usually stumbled through was gone. Ken’s hands were steady and sure, knowing exactly what they wanted. And, as Yohji feared, Ken was still hard and enjoying every minute of it.

Yohji closed his eyes trying to find the space where this made sense.  They were the best of friends and they both enjoyed the company of a beautiful woman but they were both assassins that deserved neither of those things. Somehow the delicate balance they had achieved in fulfilling their mutual physical needs had been tipped.  The stroke of sure fingers effectively broke his train of thought.

“Ken…” The throaty grunt after his name sort of diluted the seriousness of Yohji’s intent.

“Don’t talk.” Ken’s voice was a harsh whisper across the back of his neck. Strong hands easily spun the blond, pinning his back to the wall. 

“Ken…” Yohji squared his shoulders trying to reach for Ken’s arms. “We need to talk about…”

Somehow, Yohji never noticed exactly how strong Ken really was.  The brunette grabbed his shoulders, pinning him hard to the wall before crushing their lips together cutting off any further attempts at conversation. And it was difficult to struggle when his body was siding with Ken in this. After a tense moment, Yohji surrendered his doubts, relaxing under Ken’s grip. Yohji closed his eyes, letting his imagination paint its own picture to accompany the sensations he felt.

As Yohji yielded, Ken sprang into action trailing bites down his chest, letting his tongue wander. Yohji’s head listed back with a groan, banging hard against the wall as Ken reached his goal.

This was where the mission ended for them more times than not.  The adrenaline, the fear, the anticipation, the dark, primal satisfaction all needed a physical outlet and they had both found that outlet in each other.  But it was something they weren’t willing to admit to themselves outside the bathroom door.

 “Look at me…” Ken breathed the words between bobs of his head, eyes never leaving Yohji’s face. “ I said look at me.” It was more command than request.

“Can’t we just…” Yohji panted the words, tangling a hand in short brown hair encouraging him to continue.

“No, we can’t. No more pretending, Yohji. Look at me.” Ken cut off his protest with a quick nip to sensitive skin to emphasis his point. 

Yohji wrestled with the command with a wince. This was what he had been afraid of. On the job, Ken was simply embracing what he essentially was – a killer. He had slowly but surely stripped away all the pretenses and convenient little lies that Kritiker and Manx had fed them, lies that they had all told themselves so they could sleep at night. They were only marginally effective anyway.  But, it seemed, that Ken was ready to do the same with this unspoken arrangement between them as well.  Yohji wasn’t ready to face quite that much truth, especially not at the moment. He screwed his eyes shut even tighter trying desperately to put some random female face on the head he was gripping so tight.

Ken doubled his efforts much to Yohji’s obvious delight. In record time every muscle in the blond’s body was coiled and tight, right on the verge so Ken stopped. The pained whine of a groan confirmed that he’d had the desired effect. Ken was on his feet before the blond could question or complain.

“Open your eyes.”

Even now, Yohji tried to cling to his illusions although there really was no substitute for what came next. Somehow, he would usually just let his mind go blank – no labels, no illusions, but also no acknowledgement or recognition for Ken or himself. Deceptively strong hands spun Yohji again, a hard grip pulling his hips back, bending his lanky frame, pushing his face against the wall. Ken was forcing the comfortable non-issue into the forefront while simultaneously reaching for the small tube tangled in his towels, slicking his fingers and pressing the point much more literally from behind.

“Just do it.” Yohji hissed between clenched teeth.

“No more lies.” Ken teased at him, letting slick hardness strip away any lingering delusions about what their relationship had become.

Try as he might, the walls of denial Yohji had so skillfully built finally began to crack. He couldn’t deny how good Ken felt, or how much he wanted this right now, at this moment. And right now was all that mattered.

“Fuck me, Ken.” Yohji barely recognized the words as they left his mouth. Three simple little words that bore more weight than anything he had ever said before.

Ken finally smiled a small feral grin, happy to do as he was told.

Where there used to be only silence and awkward fumbling between them, there was now groaning and passionate expletives mumbled into the wall. The moans of pleasure, sweat slicked skin slapping together in staccato rhythm and the heavy panting of exertion left no question about what the bathroom was host to.

Aya finally cracked his door open after half an hour of the unmistakable soundtrack. He glared in the direction of the bathroom door but only for a moment. With a heavy sigh, he pulled on a yakata and quietly padded down the hall. He’d be able to distract Omi in the basement for another half hour or so. Hopefully, that would give them enough time.

Yohji could never have guessed that abandoning his denial could possibly make this feel so good. The mechanical nature of their after mission trysts was crushed with a loud, vocal wail as both surrendered to sheer physical exhaustion.

Yohji slowly turned, leaning heavily into the wall head still bowed and breathing heavy. Things made a lot more sense and seemed so simplistically clear while in the middle of things but the aftermath was nowhere near as kind. All the questions and concerns came racing back as well as an all new application of guilt. Yohji had honestly enjoyed that.

Ken studied Yohji’s face, peeking under his bangs as he hung his head low. His eyes were still closed.  He began to say something but stopped. Any further conversation at this point just may end with things Ken didn’t want to hear. With a grimace, he reached for the shower, turning it on. Ken was about to turn and leave Yohji to it as he usually did when the blond pushed off the wall and wrapped his arms around him. Tentatively, Ken returned the gesture, his grip tightening the longer they stood there.

Yohji finally pulled away but this time, he looked up, opened his eyes and smiled. 

“Why not take it with me this time?”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
